


Physician, Heal Thyself

by Hughville



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hughville/pseuds/Hughville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron has a bad cold but comes to work anyway. House takes care of her as only House can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Physician, Heal Thyself

**Author's Note:**

> House doesn't belong to me. The show and characters belong to David Shore and NBC Universal.  
> This is written from Cameron's POV.

I shuffle into the Diagnostics conference room. I know I’m late but I don’t care. I’m sick. It took every ounce of strength I have to get dressed and drive in. I hang my bag up and sink down into a chair. Foreman and Chase look at me in surprise. I know I look like shit. I’m pretty sure I forgot to brush my hair. I know I didn’t put makeup on. I couldn’t stop sneezing long enough to put on mascara without stabbing myself in the eye.

“You okay?” Foreman asks.

“No,” I snuffle. “I hab a cold.”

“You should’ve stayed home,” Chase says.

I shoot him a withering look. “Tanks bor stating de obeous.”

Chase looks at me quizzically.

“She said thanks for stating the obvious,” House tells him from the doorway. “Don’t you speak congested? I thought all you Brits were bilingual.”

“I’m not British,” Chase sighs.

House tosses his backpack into his office and stares at me in obvious horror. “Did rats sleep in your hair last night?” he asks.

Reaching up, I try to smooth the tangled strands. “No. I’m sick.”

“And you’re so dedicated you came in and shared your germs with the rest of us. What a trouper,” House drawls. He inclines his head at Chase and Foreman. “Go check the patient and stay lost.”

They leave and I slowly push myself up.

“God, just watching you is torture,” House comments. With a shudder, he drapes his suit jacket over his nose and mouth and leaves.

I slump back down in to the chair and rest my cheek on the cool glass table top. I’m nearly asleep when I feel the tip of House’s cane touch my shoulder.

Looking over my shoulder, I see he has a bundle tucked under his left arm and a Styrofoam cup with a lid in his left hand. He inclines his head toward his office. I get up and follow him.

He spreads out the bundle revealing blankets, a pillow, pill bottles, a hot water bottle and a thermometer. The cup is on his desk and he is setting tissues beside his lounger.

“Sit,” he tells me, pointing to his lounger with his cane as he straightens up.

I look at him suspiciously as I move toward the chair.

“Oh, stop looking at me like I drowned your cat,” he admonishes. “Sit.”

I sit. He puts my feet up on the footstool and removes my shoes before covering me with the blanket. He is muttering under his breath. As he puts the pillow behind my head I catch the word stubborn. He takes my temperature, frowns at the results, shakes out some pills, and hands them to me with the cup from his desk.

“Jewish penicillin,” he says. “Take the acetaminophen for your fever so we don’t all die from the plague you’ve brought in.”

I take the cup and pills. I put the pills in my mouth and wash them down with the chicken soup. It tastes surprisingly good.

“Who bib you steal dis from?” I teasingly ask him.

He gives me a mock glare. “I don’t steal. I permanently borrow.”

Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. House tucks the hot water bottle between my feet and wraps the end of the blanket around them. Then he pulls a chair up next to me and props his feet up next to mine. I open my eyes and look at him in surprise.

He holds out another pill. “Decongestant,” he tells me. “But you’re such a lightweight that it will knock you on your ass. So, I’ll guard you. You know, in case you snore or drool.”

I take the pill and swallow it down with the rest of the chicken soup. “I bon’t snore or brool.”

“That’s what everyone says right before they start snoring and drooling,” he replies with a smirk.

I begin to cough and House gets up. He grabs some cough drops and leans over me. I open my mouth and look up at him. I’m beginning to feel lightheaded and drowsy. He slowly slides the cough drop into my mouth. My eyes flutter shut. Just as I’m about to drift off, I could swear I feel his lips against my forehead and hear him whisper softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll be here when you wake up. You’re safe with me.”


End file.
